


pass this on

by greatcatsbys



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/F, fake dating turned real dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatcatsbys/pseuds/greatcatsbys
Summary: All Aerith knows about Tifa is that Tifa's stunning, professional, and has no time for stupid men from Shinra. Aerith is not a man, nor is she stupid, nor is she with Shinra.She likes those odds.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 13
Kudos: 176





	pass this on

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled 'if you can't beat shinra you can at least fuck their love interests'
> 
> content warning for blatant misogyny from some characters (and sex, obviously)

Aerith spends half her life in the shadows.

Once again, she's on the run, the cockroach that the Turks just can't kill. The Sector Five slums are hers, and she has a home field advantage; knows every nook and cranny like her own name, knows who she can rely on to shield her when she's in hiding.

Today, she's holed up in the roof of the church, hiding behind a disused pew in the attic, difficult to access unless you're scrawny and five foot nothing. Aerith crouches, poised for a fight, poised for the sound of sharp shoes on creaking floors, but nothing comes. The silence is deafening, and eventually, Aerith's curiosity gets the better of her.

She pokes her head over the side of the pew, looks through the hole in the attic ceiling to the hall below, grits her teeth as she sees Reno positively lounging in the stalls below, Rude pacing behind him.

'I don't _get_ it, partner,' Aerith hears him say, echoing through the empty church. 'Of all the bitches in Midgar, you go for the only one that don't see your uniform and immediately drop her panties.'

'Must like the chase,' Rude says stiffly, taps his foot. 'Besides. Some women are worth it.'

'I ain't never met a bitch worth all this,' Reno scowls, gesturing at Rude vaguely. 'The simpin', the turnin' up at her bar all hours - it's fuckin' pathetic, man.'

Rude sighs, adjusts his sunglasses. Above them, Aerith scowls; if she'd known they'd give up this easily, she'd have picked an easier hiding place. 

'You mean to tell me she isn't one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen,' Rude says, shakes his head. 

'Yeah sure, I got _eyes_ ,' Reno concedes, 'but you ain't got Shiva's chance in hell of getting on that.'

'Your confidence is appreciated, as always,' Rude says flatly.

'I'm just _sayin'_ ', Reno says pointedly, fiddling with his ponytail. 'She hates Shinra's guts, man, you been cockblocked by the boss' hairy balls. Now, if it's _pussy_ you're after -'

Aerith rolls her eyes, has heard enough locker room talk to last her a lifetime. She instinctively pities whoever this woman is, having to navigate a sea of male mediocrity every day. Brushing her hair from her eyes, Aerith thinks of alternative ways out; if the roof is sturdy enough, she can climb onto the exposed beams there -

'You'd be better off askin' the Ancient to fuck you. That's how low those odds are.'

Aerith pauses at the sound of the name they give her, scowls at Reno describing her as nothing but a piece of meat.

'Tseng would kill me,' is what Rude says in return, which only makes Aerith feel more uncomfortable. 'Shouldn't we, you know, at least try and report her whereabouts?'

'Nah, can't be fucked,' Reno says, puts his feet up. 'You hangin'?'

'Going to Seven, then,' Rude says stiffly, his boots heavy as he walks to the door. 'You know where to find me.'

Reno whistles under his breath as his partner leaves, stretches out cat-like and snarls.

'Fuckin' Tifa,' he tuts, tosses his hair behind his shoulder and leaves, twirling his mag-rod carelessly.

Aerith emerges slowly from her hiding place, her hips and knees sore. She sighs, clambers out of the wood ungracefully, winces at the flowers she'd trampled on in her hurry to escape. Most of the time, Aerith can be grateful for the life she has, can be a girl in the slums like any other, but other girls don't have Shinra operatives turning up at their door to remind them of how their days are numbered.

Aerith climbs down, slides down one of the beams to the hall below. She still feels on edge, a feeling that no amount of Turk visits will ever fully desensitise her to. Aerith holds her trampled flowers in her hands, which are tight like fists; no matter how positive she is, there will always be a part of Aerith that laments how unfair it is that they get to intrude on her life at any time, consequences be damned. And now, off they go, to harass some poor other girl, a girl with _cunt to die for_ , in Reno's words. 

_Tifa_ , they call her.

The basest, most childish part of Aerith has an idea.

\--

It doesn't take Aerith long to find the woman they describe. There's only one Tifa who runs a bar in Seven, and much like the superlatives Rude used to describe her, everyone waxes lyrical about her beauty. Proud of her deductive reasoning, Aerith sets out through the underground expressway to Seventh Heaven, briefly wonders if in another life she could have been a Turk.

Rebellion against Shinra has to be a private affair for Aerith, has to be in the little things like staying in hiding and protecting her community and learning defensive spells. Espionage is not her speciality, but emotions absolutely are, a rare advantage Aerith has over Shinra's troupe of hired hands. She has a sixth sense for reading bodies and faces, and damn if she doesn't plan to use it in an unbelievably petty and selfish way.

There's nothing overtly seditious in meeting a girl and sharing a drink, after all. It's not the sort of thing Tseng can reprimand her for, in his well-practiced stern father voice. Aerith is simply wandering, and of all the bars in all the towns in the world, she just happens to walk into Tifa's. If anything more comes from it, then, _well_. 

Aerith smirks to herself. That's certainly rebellion of a sort. 

Seducing someone in theory is different to seducing someone in practice, and as Aerith emerges out by the train station in Seven, she briefly wonders if she actually has the bottle to try it with Tifa. Then again, Aerith reminds herself, all she knows about Tifa is that Tifa's stunning, professional, and has no time for stupid men from Shinra. Aerith is not a man, nor is she stupid, nor is she with Shinra. 

She likes those odds.

Patting down the creases in her dress, Aerith pushes hard on the wood of the door, makes her way over to the bar with a pointed swing in her hips, combat boots loud against the wooden floor. 

Tifa turns around, and Aerith immediately understands just what the fuss is about.

'Welcome!' Tifa says, does a little flourish with her hands. 'Can I interest you in our specials today?'

Aerith nods dumbly, before remembering that there is, in fact, a brain in her head.

'Please,' she says, smiling politely. Aerith shifts her red bolero off her shoulders, exposing her sharp collarbones and a whisper of cleavage. 'What you got?'

'For you,' Tifa says, looking Aerith up and down, as if formulating the perfect drink, 'I'd say a sour cherry sling.'

'That sounds perfect,' Aerith says, beaming. She's not acting up, either; cherry flavored anything is Aerith's favourite. Not only is Tifa beautiful, but she's sharp. It only makes Aerith want to shift her dress down a little further.

Tifa is fluent with her hands, pours measures effortlessly and switches cups with ease. It's magnetic to watch her, and Aerith sits at the bar, leans a head in her hand and takes in the view.

'Haven't seen you around here before,' Tifa says. 'You new to Seven?'

'I'm from Five,' Aerith says, fiddles with her hair. 'Was working and ended up here.'

'What do you do?'

'I'm a mercenary,' Aerith says, bats her eyelashes. Tifa looks at her uneasily, smiles politely, before Aerith bursts out laughing. 

'Your face!' Aerith crows. 'I'm yanking your tail, sorry. I just sell flowers.'

Tifa pauses for a minute, stunned, before breaking into a smile that makes her eyes crinkle.

'You got me,' Tifa says, before apologetically adding, 'Not that I don't think you couldn't handle yourself, I mean!'

'You're sweet,' Aerith says. 'I get by, I guess. You, though? You look like you could take a fight or two.'

Tifa shrugs modestly.

'I don't make a habit of it,' she says, pushing the cocktail down the bar to Aerith. 'But sometimes, needs must.'

Aerith nods knowingly, raises her glass before taking a sip. Tifa bites her lip, in polite suspense.

'Shit, that's _so_ good!' Aerith says, genuinely, smiles with her whole face. 'You're a miracle.'

'Oh, it's nothing,' Tifa says, brings her hands to her chest and blushes, _actually_ blushes right up to her ears. 'You work here long enough, you get a sense of what people like.'

'What do you think I like?' Aerith asks, leaning forward. 'You can't say cherries though, that's cheating.'

'This can be a dangerous game,' Tifa says, smiling.

'I won't get mad,' Aerith says, sips her drink while holding Tifa's gaze.

'Fine, okay,' Tifa laughs. 'I think you like nature, or what's left of it. And, um, warm colours, and matching your hair ribbon to your outfit.'

'You're so perceptive,' Aerith says, wide-eyed. 'How'd you do it?'

'You told me you sell flowers,' Tifa says, and then, more shyly, 'And you have dirt on your hands.'

Aerith looks down, mortified.

'Oh Gods, no -'

'It's fine!' Tifa says, smiling, grabbing a towel from behind the countertop, pressing it into Aerith's clammy hands. 'If I wasn't wearing gloves I'm sure mine would be covered in crap.'

Tifa places the towel round Aerith's hands, is surprisingly gentle. Aerith smiles, lets her eyes flicker up to Tifa's face, looks at her deep brown eyes and dusting of freckles on her cheeks.

Reno was right. Rude doesn't stand a chance with her, because he doesn't _deserve_ her. She's too kind for anybody with Shinra, and Aerith feels a sudden, fiery need to protect her. 

'Thank you, um -' Aerith says, feigns innocence. 'What was your name?'

'Tifa,' she says with her crinkle-eyed smile, moves the towel back behind the counter. 'What about you?'

'I'm Aerith.'

Tifa almost gasps, eyes round.

'That's a _beautiful_ name,' she says. 'I've never heard that before. Where's it from?'

Aerith hesitates; even though she's doe-eyed and stupid for Tifa already, she's hardly about to talk about her lineage.

'My mom was into all kinds of mysticism, so I'm really not sure. It sounds nice anyway,' she says, waves a dismissive hand. 'Anyway, I bet I can guess where yours is from.'

Tifa raises a challenging eyebrow.

'Can you?'

'It must be from Heaven,' Aerith says, follows it up with her best exaggerated wink. 'Like you.'

Tifa gasps, shrieks with laughter.

'That's _terrible,_ ' she says, a huge grin on her face. 

'Sorry,' Aerith says. 'Can't hold my liquor.'

'I don't think that's true,' Tifa says, smiling. 'You finished that awful quick.'

Aerith raises her hands in mock surrender.

'You got me!' Aerith echoes, wiping her mouth slowly. 'I'm just useless around sharp, perceptive women.'

Tifa pauses for a moment, looks at Aerith curiously. If Aerith is right - which she often is about these things - she notices a smile, a flicker of genuine _interest_.

'I don't think that's true, either,' Tifa says, smiling quietly. 'You're not at all useless.'

Tifa looks at the floor, her cheeks flushed, and picks up another set of bottles, her hands slightly less confident than earlier.

'What are you making?' Aerith asks.

'Another cherry sour,' Tifa says, raising an eyebrow as if it were obvious. Aerith winces.

'Don't, Tifa - I only really have the gil for one drink -'

'On the house,' Tifa says, smiling as she pours pink liquid into the shaker.

'That's not a sustainable business model,' Aerith protests weakly. Tifa laughs close mouthed, comes out as a musical hum.

'You handle your flowers, and I'll handle my bar,' Tifa says. 'Besides, I'd like you to stay. Talking to you is easily the most fun I've had in a long while.'

Aerith smiles, nods in agreement.

'Cheers,' she says. 'To new friends.'

\--

Aerith finds more and more excuses to go to Seven; a request from Ms Folia for supplies, one of the kids losing a toy out in the junkyard. Each time she visits, she ends her visits at Seventh Heaven, talking to Tifa about everything and nothing over a smoky gin cocktail. 

From what Aerith can gather, Tifa's not from Midgar, not a long term undercity dweller like Aerith. Her vowels are rounder, more sophisticated; her voice low and thrilling where Aerith's is all sharp consonants.

'Where are you from really?' Aerith asks one evening. 'I promise I won't say Heaven this time.'

'The mountains,' says Tifa. 'But I've been here the last few years.'

'Why Seven?' Aerith asks softly.

'Lucky, isn't it?' Tifa says. 'Lucky number Seven.'

Aerith feels her heart grow several sizes.

'I love that,' she says. 'Why come to Midgar, I mean?'

Tifa smiles, but without its usual ease, its softness.

'I don't have a home anymore,' Tifa says plainly.

Aerith feels immediately guilty for asking. Instead of mangling her words, Aerith reaches for Tifa's hand over the counter, closing the distance between them.

Another night, Aerith almost says too much. She's three cocktails down when she blurts it out.

'They always said you were beautiful,' Aerith says. 'But they never said how much else you are.' 

'They?' Tifa says, looking up sharply.

'Your reputation precedes you,' Aerith says quickly, mentally kicking herself. 'Even in Five, the men talk.'

Tifa sighs and grimaces, as if she's had a lifetime of men talking. It doesn't suit her.

'Don't,' she says firmly.

'But that's what I _mean_ ,' Aerith insists. 'They talk about how gorgeous you are - which, you are, don't get me wrong - but they don't talk about how kind you are, how sharp you are. They're pigs.'

There's a silence. Aerith feels conscious, fills it with her best piggish snort.

Tifa smiles quietly to herself.

'Of course they don't,' she says. 'They don't care like you do.'

Another night, she comes with a basket of flowers, leaves dirt under her fingernails again as an excuse for Tifa to touch her. Aerith hands Tifa a blood-red flower, and Tifa blushes a similar shade, holds it to her nose and beams.

'What is it?' Tifa asks, immediately fetching a glass of water to put it in.

'It's an amaryllis,' Aerith says, leans against the counter. 'They symbolise determination, but in the before times, you gave them to someone whose strength rivalled their beauty.'

'Good thing we're not in the before times, then,' Tifa says, smiling. 'A girl could get ideas.'

Aerith stays until closing time, until Tifa apologetically leaves to change the barrels for tomorrow, and Aerith, ever generous, offers to help. Tifa lifts them with ease, all rippling muscles and taut thighs, and Aerith watches, feels heat pool between her legs.

After Tifa is finished - and Aerith has contributed little other than cheerleading - she sits back on one of her bar stools, leans on the counter sweaty and fatigued. Tifa's hair is in her eyes, and Aerith brushes it away for her, is gin-headed and plants a delicate kiss to Tifa's cheek. Tifa looks back at her with the same curiosity she had when they first met; but this time, the quiver of lust is unmistakable.

Aerith kisses Tifa fully, laces her hands around Tifa's neck and slips her tongue into Tifa's mouth, all gentle sensations that have Tifa gasping into her. Tifa kisses her back, more forcefully, falls into the rhythm of her mouth against Aerith's, tasting cherry on her tongue. Aerith guides Tifa down to lean on one of the bar stools, arms against the counter, before Aerith slips a hand under Tifa's skirt, rubs gently against her underwear.

Tifa sucks in a shaky breath, nods quickly as Aerith pauses before slipping a finger under the fabric. Aerith teases Tifa's clit with one hand, lifts Tifa's shirt with the other, and Tifa moans softly, bucks into Aerith's hand, face flushed. 

Aerith smiles, kisses Tifa gently against her jaw, her collarbone, her chest, tries to fumble with the clasp of Tifa's sports bra before Tifa gets the hint and undoes it herself. Aerith is who gasps this time, in awe of how stunning Tifa is below her, at the curve of her breasts against her lithe, muscular body. There's a lengthy scar on her chest, and Aerith traces it lightly with a finger. Tifa smiles, embarrassed, and gently moves Aerith's hand to her breast, shows Aerith how she likes to be touched.

Aerith doesn't hesitate; uses her hand and her mouth on Tifa's nipples, rubs circles against her clit and pushes a finger slowly inside her. Tifa is slick with wetness, and lets Aerith inside her easily; bites down on her lip as she gasps at Aerith slowly fucking her.

Tifa spreads her legs wider, bracing them against the other bar stools, and Aerith smiles, reaches under Tifa's thighs to grab her ass, to remove her underwear. Aerith bends eagerly to her knees and pushes her hair aside, slides two fingers back inside Tifa and licks gentle strokes against Tifa's clit.

Tifa gasps with delicate, breathy moans that intensify as Aerith adds another finger, whispers _gods, fuck_ quietly as Aerith quickly learns how Tifa likes it, ever the quick study. The basest, most childish part of Aerith imagines those Turks watching the two of them in horror, watching as their Ancient fucks the girl they've always wanted, watching as their Ancient makes her come with a muffled cry.

Aerith would be lying if she said the thought didn't turn her on.

Tifa's legs quake, body leaning back against the bar as she uncovers her mouth, allows herself to ride out her orgasm. Aerith smiles, plants a quick kiss to Tifa's thigh before standing up, puts her bolero back on and rearranges her hair.

' _Where_ ,' Tifa says, raggedly, 'did you learn to do _that_? Heaven?'

'Hey, that's my line,' Aerith pouts, and laughs, wipes her mouth with a practiced ease. 'Besides, you forget, I'm a slum rat. I know all kinds of things.'

Tifa leans forward shakily, pulls Aerith down to kiss her and tastes herself on Aerith's tongue.

'Aerith,' Tifa whispers, the tips of her ears red. 'You're incredible.'

Aerith smiles, lowers her head chastely. Tifa curls her hands in the back of Aerith's sundress, strokes her hair, holds her with a tenderness that makes Aerith want to cry. Aerith breathes, allows herself to relax into the touch. Fucking Tifa was what she'd always hoped to achieve, but now, her intentions couldn't be more different.

Tifa's hands pull more insistently at Aerith's dress.

'I'm not one to leave debts unpaid,' Tifa whispers, eyes aflame. 'And that was one hell of a debt.'

\--

Aerith holds Tifa's gloved hand as they walk through the slums of Five, remnants of sunlight passing through the wreckage of Six. Tifa smiles, remarks how little she sees the light, and Aerith tucks her hair behind her ear, urges her to walk with her.

The church is one of the few places flowers grow in Midgar, and showing it to Tifa is something Aerith finds far more intimate than skin on skin. Aerith is excited, feels her heart rise in her chest at the thought of seeing Tifa there, in her sacred place. They walk through the shifting gravel of disused weapons facilities and past the hollow shells of empty storage units, through the wreckage of a city built by Shinra together.

They're nearly at the church when Aerith stops dead in her tracks, realises they may not be alone. There's an alleyway where she can see a flicker of red hair, sharp black tailoring blending in with the brickwork. Aerith knows a fair few of the Turks' stakeout spots by now, and immediately knows that Rude will be with him, across the road, Tseng hovering from the balcony above.

'What is it, Aerith?' Tifa asks, her wide brown eyes brimming with concern, and Aerith feels an immediate pang of guilt, still hasn't told Tifa the petty truth behind their coincidental meeting. 

'I need to tell you something, _now,_ ' Aerith mutters, pulls Tifa behind a storage unit that she hopes is out of sight.

The two of them whisper to each other, and for a moment, there is silence, before Tifa's loud musical laugh can be heard for miles around. Slowly, the two of them emerge from their hiding place, and Aerith smirks, can hardly meet Tifa's eyes without giggling.

The two of them walk down the road together, hand in hand, making small talk about the weather, about the difference in scenery between here and Seven. As they walk past the stakeout spot, Aerith squeezes Tifa's hand, and Tifa pauses, feigns interest in something on the horizon, makes a show of pointing upwards.

'That's so interesting,' Aerith says, smiles and nestles into Tifa's shoulder, wraps her arms around Tifa's stomach. 'You're so wonderful, _darling._ '

'Not as wonderful as you,' Tifa says, and turns around, kisses Aerith with the force of a hurricane, her hands possessive against the small of Aerith's back. Aerith kisses her back in front of the gods and everyone, fondles Tifa's breasts through her shirt and laughs into her mouth.

Behind them, from the alleyway, they hear a clang of metal on metal. They break apart at the sound, and Reno emerges from the alleyway, picks up his mag-rod with an expression closer to embarrassment than Aerith's ever seen on him. There is a sigh, before Rude follows suit, not even his sunglasses covering up the envy radiating from his features.

'Oh hi, Reno, Rude,' Aerith says breezily, that deceptively innocent smile on her face. 'I didn't realise you guys were here today! Have you met Tifa before?'

Tifa laces an arm round Aerith's waist, waves brightly with her free hand.

'Oh hi there! I recognise you from the bar.' Tifa smiles, brushes Aerith's hair behind her ear. 'They friends of yours, sweetie?'

'You could say that,' Aerith says sweetly, fiddles with her dress. 'Boys, would you mind keeping your distance today? I'm trying to show my girlfriend the sights.'

'Girlfriend?' Reno snarls, aghast.

'Mm-hm! We're on a date right now,' Aerith says, adds a subtle venom to her smile. 'Please don't spoil it.'

Tifa smiles, kisses Aerith again with a flourish.

'We'll see you later, okay?' 

Tifa and Aerith walk down the road together, Tifa's hand still possessive against Aerith's back as they hear Reno and Rude hissing blue murder at each other in the distance. Finally, after there's a solid distance between them and the Turks, Aerith howls with laughter like a plug's been pulled out, and Tifa joins her, scared and laughing with relief.

'I am _so_ sorry,' Aerith says, grinning, perching on the steps of the church. 'You were perfect, though! A real natural. Wasted behind the bar, I'm telling you.'

Tifa laughs, runs a nervous hand through her hair.

'It was fun,' she says, sits down next to Aerith. 'Besides, I'll take any excuse to fuck with Shinra.'

'Even if that includes actual fucking,' Aerith smirks.

'Once again, your sense of humour is a crime,' Tifa says, no real malice in it. 'But yes, even then.'

Aerith smiles, clasps Tifa's hand in hers.

'I didn't mean to use you like that,' she says.

Tifa looks at the ground thoughtfully, pauses for a moment.

'I don't feel used,' she finally says, face sincere. 'I trust you, Aerith. Even if you've got one hell of a taste for mischief.'

'Guilty!' Aerith chirps. 'I meant what I said, though. About this being a date.'

Tifa smiles down into her hands, face flushed.

'I really hoped you'd say that,' Tifa says shyly, miles away from the possessive, performative kissing from earlier. Aerith smiles at how honest she is, how her face crinkles with sincerity.

'Maybe not the most conventional of dates,' Aerith says, crossing her legs. 'But certainly memorable, don't you think?'

'Like I'd ever forget the way you grabbed me,' Tifa says, smiling. 'Or the look on Rude's face when he saw me kiss you.'

'You sure didn't let him down easy,' Aerith teases, can barely keep the smirk from her face.

'Some people never take the hint,' Tifa says, diplomatically. 'And your approach is certainly - _direct._ '

'Well,' Aerith says, grinning, 'my _Rent A Girlfriend To Bump Clueless Men_ services are available at any time.'

'Your work was _fantastic_ ,' Tifa says, tips an imaginary hat. 'Any chance I could ask about additional services?'

'Well, that depends,' Aerith says, feigning innocence. 'What added services did you have in mind?'

'Hmm,' Tifa says, places a hand gently on Aerith's thigh. 'You know, it might be easier if I show you.'

Aerith grins, eyes sparkling.

'Well, I'm sure that can be arranged,' she says, laughing. 'If you'd like to follow me.'

Aerith stands up, invites Tifa into the church with a dramatic, regal bow. Tifa laughs as she walks past Aerith, into the church where the light breaks through the ceiling and she is so, _so_ beautiful.

Tifa kisses Aerith boldly, with the force and vigour of earlier, leaves Aerith breathless and dizzy with want. Aerith beams as she wraps her arms round Tifa's shoulders, as Tifa teases at the straps of Aerith's dress.

'Should we go somewhere else?' Tifa asks, apprehensive. 'What if someone sees?'

Aerith smiles, unclasps the buckle of Tifa's braces.

'Round here,' she says, 'I know _all_ the best places.'

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> based off a [very silly twitter thread](https://twitter.com/turksontour/status/1300150848929046528?s=19) i made the other day
> 
> i've always wanted to write some aerti and this popped into my head, fully formed! hope you enjoyed


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